Signore Delle Ombre
by The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As
Summary: The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing powers and make new alliances. Let the Battle Begin.
1. Condemned

**Title: **Signore Delle Ombre

**Author:** He'sDeadJim

**Summary:** The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.

**Character Types: **Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout

**SHIPs:** TBD, most likely no slash

_I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us?_

_-_**Matthew 27:4**

**Chapter One: Walking the Line**

"Harry James Potter, I hear by sentence you to life in Azkaban for the torture and murder of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley." Cornelius Fudge announced, looking down at the teen from his place on the bench. Beside him, Umbridge smiled toothily to herself, trying in vain to keep the triumph out of her eyes.

_Harry sat on the bed in his room, staring dully at the wall. Ever since Sirius' death, his relatives had left him alone, perhaps recognizing the dangerous mood he was perpetually in. Harry had never felt so alone._

_All members of the Order had cut off contact with him through the Owl Post this summer. The last time he had heard from them was the week in the beginning of the summer he had spent at headquarters, because the Dursleys had been in France on business. So now, with about a month before he was to begin sixth year, he didn't even have the letters of his friends to distract him from the tedium that was his life during the summer holidays._

_Thankfully, relations with the Dursleys had gotten slightly better. When Harry had finally gone back to their house upon their return from France, it had finally hit him that these were his only relatives. Although, with Vernon, Harry had found that the closest thing possible to a familial relationship had been simple cordiality, Harry had become close with Petunia, and Dudley had become tolerable._

_It was because of this change in Harry's home life that he no longer had to do all the chores around the house. He split them equally with Dudley, who, surprisingly enough, had turned out amiable. Of course, it could have had something to do with the fact that Dudley had attended many a counseling session in an effort to get him to "work better with the community as a whole", according to the school. Apparently Piers and company didn't count as the "community". So Dudley wasn't as nasty a bully as he had been._

_Even if Harry had received any letters from the Order, he wasn't sure that they would have distracted him. Ron and Hermione had become increasingly distant to him over the course of the week during the beginning of the summer, acting stranger and stranger around him. In fact, now that he thought of it, almost all the Weasleys had, except for Fred, George, and, oddly enough, Bill and Percy._

_Harry's gaze drifted to the clock. Almost midnight on this day of July 30th. Mentally, he started a countdown in his head._

_10…_

_Harry stared unblinkly at the clock as the hand ticked closer and closer towards July 31st._

_9…_

_Harry distantly heard his Uncle Vernon snore especially loud and mumble "the killer drills, the killer drills…" before going silent again._

_8…_

_Soon he would be sixteen, and would have only two years of schooling before him._

_7…_

_Only one more summer before he could legally be on his own._

_6…_

_Next summer at this time he would be able to use magic without the Ministry descending on him._

_5…_

_Harry stared at the clock, unwilling to look away._

_4…_

_He dimly registered a loud crash coming from downstairs, but pushed it off as Dudley going downstairs for a late night snack._

_3…_

_He heard another crash, and then his Uncle's enraged bellow._

_2…_

_Enraged bellow?_

_1…_

_Harry got a distinct sense of déjà vu, but he knew that this time it wouldn't be Hagrid at the door._

_0…_

_Voldemort had broken the wards on the house of Number Four, Privet Drive in Surrey._

"Do you have any last words?" Fudge demanded.

Harry looked unblinkingly at the people he had once called friends. Most of the Order was sitting in the stands around the courtroom with accusing looks on their faces. He frowned. Not everyone he knew was there. Mentally he ran down the list. Tonks, Fred, George, Luna, Neville, Remus, Snape, Bill, and Percy were the only people from the Order and his inner circle missing. Did they believe he was innocent, when his so-called best friends, who should have known him best, did not?

He could only hope so.

_Lucius Malfoy laughed as he pointed Harry's wand at the Dursleys. Behind him, Harry's arms were being firmly held by Crabbe and Goyle Senior. As Harry's desperate eyes roved over the circle of Deatheaters, in the back of his head he noted down who was there. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle Sr., of course, the sniveling rat, Umbridge. He frowned. His suspicions had been correct. Umbridge was a Deatheater. The other Deatheaters were less recognizable, and Harry assumed that they were either lower level ones or new recruits._

_He turned his eyes back to his only living family as Lucius Malfoy laughed and began to kill them one by one._

_His Uncle Vernon was the first to be enveloped by the deadly green light, a vein popping dangerously on his neck, his face red, fury at the freaks who had entered his house evident. Dudley was next to fall, his fat body unable to evade the curse as it shot towards him. And then, it was his Aunt Petunia's turn._

_Just as the Unforgivable began to speed towards Harry's Aunt, Petunia tossed something small and shiny Harry's way. Just as the object was thrown, the green light hit her and she crumpled to the ground._

_With one furious motion, Harry summoned strength he did not know he had and wrenched his arms free in order to catch the object, whatever it was. Behind him, his captors moved to grab his arms again, but they were too slow to do it before the palm of his left hand made contact with the thing._

_It burned. Harry screamed, and sank in the welcome blackness that was overwhelming his mind._

"Betrayal comes back to haunt those who inflict it." Harry said, his tone eerily grating on the ears of all listening. "You have condemned me, the one you once proclaimed your 'savior'. When you need help again, do not come running to me."

Harry glanced at all those present calmly, memorizing their faces. Although, before all this, Harry had never been a person set on vengeance, he knew without a doubt that should he ever be found innocent, he would make them pay.

Not with blood, but with suffering.

_Harry woke to a throbbing pain on the palm of his left hand, where he had caught the object. But when he glanced at his hand, there was nothing there. No sign of a burn, cut, or anything._

_With a frown, he struggled to sit up, and heard shouting. Dizzy, he fell back to the ground, praying that this was a dream and he would wake up soon._

_A face descended into view as he cautiously opened his eyes again._

_An Auror._

_The man cleared his throat, his eyes hard and cold. "Harry Potter, you are under arrest for murder."_

_Harry could only frown in confusion and growing horror as the Aurors roughly dragged him off to the Ministry holding cells. _

Harry was unconscious when the Dementors came to escort him to Azkaban. Although Dumbledore had petitioned many a time for human Aurors to take over the job of the nightmare bringers, the Ministry still refused to acknowledge that the Dementors could possibly have loyalty to anyone but them. So the Dementors stayed as the guards of the wizarding prison, bringing a sense of hopelessness to all who came there.

So it was that as Harry entered the prison for the first time, there were no humans to witness his hand glowing as the Dementors disembarked from the boat and Harry touched the ground for the first time.

Back at the Ministry, Dumbledore himself snapped Harry's wand.

**_A/N: Hello! This is my first fic, so… please review and please be nice. I don't mind flames if they're constructive. Thanks._**

**Note: The quote at the beginning of the chapter used to be from the song 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' by Green Day. Thanks to Quillian, who pointed out to me that under the new rules of I was unable to have song quotes**


	2. Remembering A Yesterday

**Title: **Signore Delle Ombre

**Author:** He'sDeadJim

**Summary:** The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.

**Character Types: **Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout

**SHIPs:** TBD, most likely no slash

**Disclaimer: _(This applies to the first chapter, too)_ I do not own Harry Potter. If you think I do or might, then you are not only severly mistaken, but also, most likely, just a wee bit odd. There is no chance of me ever owning any of the rights, and I wouldn't want them, anyway, because Sirius is dead, Snape is mean, Neville is a wimp, and Draco is turning evil.

* * *

**

_Fighting because we're so close  
There are times we punish those who we need the most  
Though we can't wait for a savior  
Only got ourselves to blame for this behavior_

_-Duran Duran, 'What Happens Tomorrow'

* * *

_

**Chapter Two: Remembering a Yesterday**

Neville Longbottom found his sleep disturbed by the bright glare of midday sunlight streaming through his window. With a groan, he rolled out of bed and staggered towards his door. He felt like someone had just slammed a muggle baseball bat against his head. Curiously enough, he couldn't remember what exactly he had been doing yesterday.

"Gran?" He called, looking down the steps, before remembering that he should probably get dressed before he headed downstairs. He looked down and froze. _He was already dressed._ For the first time in his life, real fear seeped into his brain- not the half angry, half ashamed fear of humiliation he normally felt, but the fear that something was not right in the world, and he was part of it.

"Gran?" He called louder, genuinely worried now.

No response. He stumbled over his feet as he raced down the stairs, barely catching himself as he reached the bottom, and frantically burst into the kitchen, hoping his Gran had simply not heard him over the noise of cooking.

Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side. The only other living being in the kitchen besides Neville was a Daily Prophet owl, waiting patiently to get paid. With a frown, he pulled out a sickle and gave it to the bird, taking the paper absently as the owl took flight again and left through the open window.

There were no signs of attack, and his Gran didn't normally leave without telling him, so where could she…his eyes glanced down impulsively at the paper's headline, and he stepped back a little, stunned. **'Boy-Who-Lived Kills 3 Muggles; Denounced By Colleagues As Too Deep Into the Dark Arts; "'He fancied Himself the Next Dark Lord'", Says One Former Friend.'**, the newspaper screamed.

Neville found himself temporarily incapable of moving as a deluge of memories suddenly rushed upon him following the tide of extreme shock and anger he felt at those who had betrayed Harry.

* * *

_Neville and his Gran were just about to sit down to dinner when a pounding at the door distracted them. His Gran went to answer to door at once, vulture on her hat bobbing oddly as she did so._

"_Albus!" She exclaimed, surprised. "Do come in."_

"_No time, I fear." The Headmaster of Hogwarts said, surprisingly grave. "If you and young Neville could come- I'm afraid I've had to call an emergency meeting of the Old Crowd."_

"_The Old Crowd?" His Gran remarked, clearly surprised. "Then why the need for Neville?"_

"_Something… unexpected has come up." The Headmaster said, refusing to elaborate, instead informing them that the meeting would be in twenty minutes at Hogwarts._

_Neville frowned, confused. "What Old Crowd? A Meeting? What could it possibly be for?" He asked his Grandmother, but received no more than the frustrating 'you'll see'._

_Gran rapidly wrapped dinner up, placing several preservation and heating charms on the meal to ensure that it would still be good later. She silently handed a pinch of Floo Powder over to her curious Grandson, then marched over to the fireplace._

_She threw her handful into the fire, waited until they turned green, then stepped in and called out "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!"_

_Neville followed cautiously, still wondering what on earth this meeting could be about. He could only hope it wasn't bad news.

* * *

_

Anger surged in every cell of Neville. _How could they?_ He thought. _How dare they?_ Without further thought or consideration, he made to grab some Floo Powder and rush to Hogwarts. But then his hand faltered, and he dropped the powder back in. _If I go, they'll just do **it** again…_ he mused.

And Neville Longbottom was not going to let that happen.

* * *

"_Quiet!" Albus Dumbledore cried with surprising vigor for a man of over a hundred years- at least, that was his rumored age._

"_Welcome, welcome all. I'm sure some of you are quite aware of what type of meeting you are attending at this moment, but for those newcomers, I would like to welcome you to a vital meeting of the Order of the Phoenix."_

_Neville glanced around him. Some people seemed more surprised than others did. While Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger sat smugly, smirking knowingly at those who, like Neville, had never been to a meeting of the Order before, others like Luna Lovegood glanced nervously down the table, obviously wondering what this could be about._

"_I'm sure that our normal members, as well as those who, before this night, were not acquainted with the Order of the Phoenix, are wondering why we would choose to bring in those who are not sworn to secrecy." Many people nodded in agreement with his statement._

"_However," Dumbledore said, continuing. "I'm afraid we'll have to wait until the last of our group manage to straggle in."_

_Neville flushed as he heard Ron whisper to Hermione, "It's pretty bad when you're later than Exploding Cauldron Longbottom."_

"_Don't mind them." A young woman with pink hair remarked. "Snape is enough to make **anyone** blow up their cauldrons. Except maybe for snobby know-it-alls and their wannabe boyfriends."_

_Neville sniggered quietly, and she smiled cheerfully back at him, wrinkling her nose. Neville yelped softly as her nose swiftly changed to a pig's snout and back._

"_My name's Tonks. Nymphadora Tonks, if you want to get technical and all, but I would rather prefer it if you would just call me Tonks."_

"_Hi, Tonks." Neville said, hesitantly returning her eager grin. "I'm…"_

"_Neville, Neville Longbottom." At Neville's surprised look, she smiled and explained, "You might not be part of the Order, but the old man up there likes us to know everyone who's at Hogwarts at this time. Nice to meet you, Neville."_

"_Happen to know what this is about… Tonks?"_

_Tonks was obviously a very cheerful person, as she smiled slightly at Neville's hesitation over using her last name instead of her first._

"_Nah." She said, shaking her head for emphasis. "No idea whatsoever. All I know is that there was some major activity over at Auror Headquarters today, so major only Senior Executives got involved, really, and that those two," she jerked her head towards the smirking Ron and smug Hermione, "were called in for questioning for some time."_

"_I take it you're not a big Hermione and Ron fan, then?" Neville asked._

"_Not at all." Tonks stated, suddenly serious. "I put up with them because, well, they're Harry's friends, and I think Harry's a cool kid- actually think he'd make a better leader than Dumbledore, you know, but don't tell the old fool I said that."_

_Neville nodded as she put into words what he had been feeling for several years now. "I agree. Harry- he's a natural leader, and pretty smart, too, if he puts his mind to it. Ron though, and Hermione, well, they always seem to leech off his fame, hang onto his coattails so to speak."_

_Tonks cocked an eyebrow, obviously wanted more of an explanation. So Neville gave her one- the one he'd been mulling over for quite some time._

"_Ron's not very bright- I mean, sure, he's a brilliant chess player and all, but for classes, he's average, or slightly below. And as for Hermione, she's book smart- hell, she's memorized all of Hogwarts, A History with no problem, at all! But she's not practical smart."_

"_What do you mean, not practical smart?" Tonks said, frowning._

"_Well, my Gran's got some inside people among the OWL examiners, so she was able to get my OWL scores delivered already."_

"_What?" Tonks exclaimed, causing several people to look over curiously until she shook her head and turned back to Neville, hissing in a fierce whisper, "But no one else will get theirs until almost mid-August!"_

"_Yeah, well…" Neville shrugged. "Anyway, miraculously enough, I'm one of the top ten at Hogwarts."_

"_Congrats!" Tonks said. "Good on you!"_

_Neville smiled happily. "Thanks. But, for the top ten, you know, they send a list with all the other ten in the class by rank. Hermione's second."_

"_Then who got first?"_

"_Harry."

* * *

_

Neville was at a lost with what to do. He knew, from his recovered memories, that he had been one of a few subjected to an _obliviate_- although he wasn't sure how he had survived it. What he did know, however, was that his green robe wearing Gran had sanctioned it. 

Further more, he knew that said Gran would be returning from Order business any minute now, and that if he showed signs of his restored memory, they would not be so gentle this time 'round, trying to suppress the memories.

So he ran back up to his room, grabbed some homework, and began to spread it around so it would appear he had been working diligently on it since he had gotten up.

Downstairs, he could hear the key turning in the lock.

* * *

"_Attention, everyone!" Dumbledore called. "Now that everyone is here, we can get down to business!"_

_Neville looked around, searching for new faces, and found them in the Weasley twins, Fred and George, who looked like they had just been dragged out of bed._

"_I have a very grave matter to discuss with you all." The Leader of the Order of the Phoenix proclaimed. "In tomorrow's newspapers, you will find some news that might be… disturbing to a few. Since the papers will not be given all the details, to withhold any widespread fear or panic that might result, I have called you all here to tell you the real facts behind this story, so that you may know them and give the public assurances. Everyone here, in some way or another, knows Harry Potter, isn't that right?"_

"_What the hell?" Tonks murmured to herself. "Why does knowing Harry call for an emergency meeting?"_

_The Headmaster took a deep breath. "Yesterday he was arrested for the torture and eventual murder of his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin, and was shipped off to Azkaban last night to serve a life sentence."_

_A murmur of disbelief ran through those assembled. One, whom Neville recognized as Professor Lupin from third year, stood up, frowning._

"_Do you have proof, Albus? I find it hard to believe Harry would do anything of this nature." Others nodded, too, and the werewolf continued. "Did you question him under a truth spell or potion? What evidence is there, really?"_

"_Mr. Potter, when questioned under both truth spell and potion, admitted to the crime." Neville frowned disbelievingly. Beside him, Tonks was muttering curse word after curse word under her breath. "Many have suspected that he was going dark for some time, but we tried to stay with him in hopes that he would soothe our fears and prove them unfounded. Sadly, this is not so, and today I blame myself for the murders of three innocent muggles." The Headmaster's expression was grave and solemn._

_People around the table began to nod their heads, taking his words as truth. The Headmaster gestured for Hermione and Ron to stand up. The redhead spoke first, stating that Potter had become more and more interested and immersed in the Dark Arts over the years, gradually slipping away from both Gryffindors until his frustration and anger at both the muggle and wizard world had come to a peak in the Department of Ministries._

_Hermione added to his statement. "Anyone could have told you Potter hated his relatives. This was just a cauldron waiting to boil. By the time he visited us at the Burrow at the beginning of the summer, he wasn't the same person we had met at the start of First Year. He didn't even write us very many letters once he left to go back to his family. Obviously, he had been planning something like this for quite sometime."_

_**That's not true!** Neville wanted to scream. By this time, he was fuming. Harry had written to people, including Neville, discussing anything and everything from homework to the future. Harry was too good, too kind to ever do something like that to anyone- except perhaps Voldemort. Neville remembered a letter Harry had sent him a few weeks back, about how Harry wasn't sure he wanted to become a murderer, even to save the Wizarding World._

_There were few who would listen to him, though, Neville soon realized. Albus Dumbledore was, after all, the Leader of the Light, the person who had stepped up to the plate and had been the one to defeat the last Dark Lord, Grindelwald. It also helped that he had been the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and before that, beloved Transfiguration Professor, for quite a long time- so long, indeed, that everyone in the Order of Phoenix considered this man a kindly old adoptive grandfather to them, Neville's Gran included._

_And truth spells and potions- Neville couldn't think of anything that could counteract either of them, let alone both._

_That didn't mean that there wasn't something out there. He refused to believe Harry was guilty.

* * *

_

"Neville dear?" His Gran called up, as she came in the door.

"Up here, Gran." He called, forcing a look of concentration onto his face. He heard his Gran close the front door and slowly walk up the steps.

He focused all his anger and rage directly at the piece of parchment, determined not to let his façade slip in front of one who he was now forced to consider an enemy. _I am Neville Longbottom. _He chanted mentally to himself. _I am about to be a sixth year Gryffindor. I am a dunce at Potions. Potions- Professor Snape! _Wheels in his head began to turn.

"What are you working on, dear?"_ Dear?_ Neville snarled to himself as he turned in his seat to see his Gran in the doorway to his room.

"Potions homework, Gran. Only a month until school starts again. It's hard to believe I actually got an 'O' on my OWL, because this stuff is way hard!" He managed in a cheerful voice, forcing a happy-go-lucky smile.

"Oh, you poor dear." His Gran said, seemingly sympathetic. _Here we go with the 'dear' again…_ he mentally rolled his eyes. _Where was the 'dear' when the old biddy allowed Dumbledork to obliviate me?_

"Perhaps you could help me?" Neville asked, adding a note of helplessness and pleading to his voice. He almost smiled with pride at how good his acting skills had become of late.

"Oh, no!" She said hastily, backing out of the room slightly.

_Hook, line, sinker._ Neville thought. He knew well that she hated Potions. _I thank you for imparting that knowledge on me, for you have done nothing else to be thanked for._

"Errr… what I mean," She said hastily, patting imaginary strands of hair back into place on her head. "is that perhaps you should go talk to your Professor… he's the Potion Master, after all…" Neville resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Barely.

_And that's a wrap, folks._

It was time for everyone to begin remembering yesterday.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I felt so special, seeing them there… please review this chapter too!_


	3. Welcome to the Land of Nightmares

**Title: **Signore Delle Ombre

**Author:** The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As

**Summary:** The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.

**Character Types: **Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout

**SHIPs:** TBD, most likely no slash

Disclaimer: Does NOT belong to me. Everything neat and pretty? Then on with the show! (that's not mine, either!)

* * *

_To me belongeth vengeance and recompence; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste._

**- Deuteronomy 32:35

* * *

**

**Chapter Three: Welcome to the Land of Nightmares**

Night. Somewhere, someplace, perhaps people were laughing, playing, singing- being joyful. But here- on this night- here, in this place- there never was any joyful laughter; only the insane, out of your mind, crazy laughter that showed those who came to listen that this place was truly one of madness.

And of nightmares.

The prison fortress loomed blackly on the island that it got it's name from- or, perhaps, the prison had been named first, and maybe at one point the island had been named something else.

No one was quite sure, to be truthful. None of the Wizarding world, anyway.

In the bowels of the fortress, a lone man paced his cell.

_One, two, three, turn._ _One, two, three, turn._

Although small, he found it almost- homey- in comparison with the cupboard he had lived in for most of the first ten years of his life.

No, the size of the cell wasn't the bad thing about the prison at all. It was the Dementors- the creatures of black and night and fear and sorrow and pain- his worst fear, his only fear.

Being in high security didn't help things. As he was _Harry Potter_, supposed right-hand man to the Dark Lord himself, the Aurors had been ordered to make sure that said person did not, under any means, escape.

Whoever had processed his file had obviously taken that to mean the more Dementors outside his cell, the better.

Before, during the rare moments when his Godfather had broken down and talked of his days here, at this place of nightmares, Harry had never expected to eventually have to live the words the only father figure in his life had once spoken. And more than that- words could not do the prison any true justice.

He knew that, under normal circumstances- like, say, his third year Quidditch game- he'd still be unconscious; he simply would have been dragged to prison, and never have woken up again. As the Auror who had brought his food- watered-down gruel, a thin slice of moldy bread, and some stale water- had sneeringly informed him, he was a special case.

* * *

_Pain._

_The first thing he became aware of when he regained consciousness was the excruciating pain._

_The next thing he heard was the screaming._

_Not only his parents- but also the many victims of Voldemort he had seen over the years in various visions- and real life._

_At first he could not discern where he was- but then he heard the laughter._

_He thought, at one point, that it was the high-pitched laughter that had haunted his nightmares before, and that had taken over his days._

_When he looked up, though, he discovered how wrong he was. An Auror sneered down at him- a middle-aged man, with premature wrinkles on the face because of the stress that working in Azkaban caused._

"_Well, Potter," The man practically snarled, spitting saliva and particles of food all over Harry's face as he spoke. "It's good to see a murdering scum like you locked up. Shame you're too young for the Dementors to come and give you a… kiss."_

_The Auror smirked. "Maybe later, in a few years, you'll be begging for one. We- of the Azkaban Auror Association- have noticed something, Potter. You'd faint whenever you get close enough to the Dementors. And we can't have that now, can we?"_

_Harry looked wearily up at the man and wondered what further tortures the Wizarding world had to offer him._

_He didn't have to think on it long before the man, eager to humiliate and lend a hand in the disgrace and torture of the 'murderer' Harry Potter, began to speak again._

"_You see, you're in luck. Just in time to be the… guinea pig, I think muggles call it… for a little experiment of ours." The man gleefully rubbed his hands together. "In this prison, the spell will allot you five hours of sleep a night- we decided to be generous-, but the rest of the time, Potter, you'll be unable to close your eyes for more than the time it takes to blink, and you certainly will not be allowed to lose consciousness."_

_Harry stared at the man in horror. Although sleep was not an issue for him in the short run- he was used to not sleeping a whole night, due to the visions of Voldemort he got- over time Harry knew that even he would eventually be exhausted; too exhausted to put up even the slightest and most meager barriers to defend him in his sleep._

"_Welcome to Azkaban, lad." The Auror said, ending his speech, before he roughly slid a tray underneath the door through a magically induced slot that close quickly after the tray came through, turned, and left._

_Welcome to Hell on Earth.

* * *

_

Severus Snape scowled, gently massaging his head. He felt like he had been summoned and tortured brutally for failure the night before, but remembered nor knew of no summoning. In fact, if he remembered correctly, he was at an Order meeting last night.

The scowl deepened.

He was a cautious man by nature, - a spy had to be- and when he found a sizable chuck of his memory missing, he didn't know what to think. He made to get out of his desk chair, when he suddenly heard a loud noise coming from his classroom.

He entered slowly, expecting one of his 'friends', like Lucius Malfoy, or at least one of their spawn to be there with a question or a task for him. What met his eyes was totally unexpected, although he managed to mask his surprise well.

The current record holder of the most blown up cauldrons in all of Hogwarts, who had some how, miraculously enough, had managed to get into Snape's NEWT Potion class, Neville Longbottom, was currently trying to get off the floor from where he had landed in a heap following his entrance by floo powder into the classroom.

"Professor Snape!" The young man gasped out. "I need your help!"

* * *

_A/N: Another chapter out. I apologize for the shortness, but my inspiration went here and… stopped. I thank everyone for their reviews, and while I will refrain from individual reviews, due to the fact I need to go and study for a Bio test coming up, I will answer some F.A.Q.s or things I feel should be cleared up. So here goes nothing…_

**(PotterScar) this chapter was "a bit confusing"…**

_Yeah. About that. It's going to continue being confusing for a while, since my main characters are confused. And as much as it's fun to give the reader more facts then the characters have (which will happen eventually), it's also fun to have you follow a character's thought process! I know it's a bit evil, but it should work out. If it seems totally confusing to you, just ask me in the review and I'll try to clear it up (if it doesn't affect the plot)_

**Concerning Updates:**

_I have my exams coming up, so I have to be cracking down on that. Besides, I've been eagerly awaiting Star Wars III for years now (even more than my own sister's graduation!) so I have to go see that. May 19th, May 19th! I will be able to update more frequently over the summer, and I will try my hardest to get in another update before June. Maybe if I get enough reviews? They provide me with inspiration! Sorry 'bout updates… I just don't want to fail my courses. ...cringe...

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_

**Please Review! This is my first fanfic, so I love to hear from all of you! Also, a question: What SHIPs, if any, do you think should be in this fic?** _Input is important to me, and I have several ways I can go with this, so tell me what you want/think!_


	4. Heroes and Zeros

**Title: **Signore Delle Ombre

**Author:** The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As

**Summary:** The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.

**Character Types: **Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout

**SHIPs:** Not sure if I'll even have any!

**Disclaimer:** I am not blond, I do not have a British accent, and I am not one of the richest women on earth.

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_I have been one acquainted with the night.  
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.  
I have outwalked the furthest city light.  
I have looked down the saddest city lane.  
I have passed by the watchman on his beat  
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain_.

-_Acquainted With the Night_ by Robert Frost

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**Chapter Four: Heroes and Zeros**

Ron Weasley strode through the crowd at Diagon Alley, one arm wrapped possessively around his girlfriend, Hermione Granger. The swarm of witches and wizards who had descended on Wizarding England's most prominent structure parted in awe, glad to see the two instrumental in the discovery and imprisonment of one of the darkest wizards of the time- Harry Potter.

Already without _his_ influence, Ron was feeling better- less heavy. No longer did _he_ hold Ron back from what Ron was entitled to. Ron had a girlfriend, the Head Boy position, and the Gryffindor Quidditch Captaincy. Ron had no doubt that when he went back to Hogwarts, he would rule the school. _This year, I am the king!_ The red head thought triumphantly to himself. Ron was sure that without _his_ influence and under Ron's continued, careful surveillance and guidance, the school could gradually rid itself of the taint it had accumulated. Ron already knew, however, that there would be people to watch.

The Slytherins, of course- although Ron had advocated, rightly so, for the expulsion of all current members of the House and the abolishment of their slimy establishment, Dumbledore, being the soft man he was, had refused.

The there were the ones the executives of the Order had deemed the Lost- the ones who Potter had corrupted so much, obliviation was the only option. People like the spineless, toad-loving Longbottom, the greasy git Snape, and the ever clumsy Tonks. Longbottom and Tonks, of course, being so weak and open to influences, were not beyond saving, however, Ron knew it would probably take Potter's death for _his_ influence to be shaken off and replaced by something more beneficial for the two.

Most of the other Lost, too, he was sure would eventually come around- although they might take a little more convincing if they were ever to recover their memories.

Snape, on the other hand…Ron sneered. No matter how he and Hermione had tried to convince Dumbledore that the slimy Potions Professor was a real Deatheater, not a spy- after all, he had supported Potter, most likely on his Master's orders- the senile, lemon-eating Headmaster still claimed that Snape only supported Potter because of the obligation of the Life Debt Snape owed Potter's Father.

Snape had, of course, still been part of the obliviation, in part so he would not remember what extra information he had been told- a fact that was not released to the general public, one that had caused all the Lost to object to Potter's incarceration. Ron mentally rolled his eyes. How they had managed to think that Potter might be innocent, and that Ron, Dumbledore, and the Ministry hadn't done the right thing was beyond him.

Ron had his doubts about Dumbledore's theory of Snape's innocence. After all, Snape had refused to let him into NEWT Potions, although Ron had gotten an Acceptable and single-handedly- well, with a little help from Hermione- saved the world from the corrupt influences of Potter. No one deserved to get into that class more than Ron- although Ron was well aware that, with the capture of Potter already under his belt, the Auror division would welcome him with open arms.

"Ron?" Hermione looked questionably at him, and he smiled at her in order to reassure her.

"Come on, Hermione. Let's go get our school supplies." He said, sauntering down the street toward Madame Malkin's, Hermione on his arm, secure in his position as hero of the Wizarding World.

* * *

Susan Bones sighed and shifted slightly in her seat when she heard steps on the gravel path, but she didn't look up, but instead continued to focus on her book.  
_Probably a reporter._ She thought.  
For the last week, her home had been constantly surrounded by reporters, her family hounded by the over zealous information seeks. Her Aunt, after all, had been one of the primary players to convict Harry Potter, the already infamous (_so-called_ Susan amended silently) Deatheater.  
Although the media circus was mostly centered around the former Gryffindor's ex-best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, the public wanted its daily assurances that the (accused) murderer was locked up and would never escape. And while Weasley and Granger certainly seemed to be enjoying the attention focused on them, Susan was not grateful in the least for it.  
"Susan?" A familiar sounding voice asked. Her head jerked up, and she found herself looking into a pair of warm brown eyes.  
"Neville!" She exclaimed, surprised. "What are you doing here?"  
He shifted slightly. "Well…" he began slowly. "You're taking NEWT Potions and Herbology, right?"  
"Of course." She said, shutting her book and holding it up for him to inspect. Currently she was reading a book called Potions and Herbology: An Essential Guide to the Two Fields.  
He managed a grin. "Oh good. Look- Professor Snape is offering a summer class for us. To get us ready for NEWTs, you know? Do you want to go?" He finished in a rush.  
Susan frowned. "Snape volunteered?"  
"Yeah." Neville said, grinning. "How about it, then?"  
She nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just let me check. When does it start?"  
"Next Week." Neville beamed. "Bring all your Hogwarts stuff. They're going to open a set of forms for all of us to stay in until school starts."  
"Okay. That sounds great. Just stay here." She waved a hand in front of his face to emphasize the point, and quickly ran into the house. "Mum!"  
"Susan?" Her mother asked, poking her head around the door to the kitchen. "Are those reporters bothering you again?"  
"Nah, mom. That was Neville, Neville Longbottom- from school?- outside, and he just wanted to know if I wanted to go to a special NEWT preparation course at school starting next week."  
"Do you want to go?"  
Susan nodded vigorously.  
"Fine, then. Go and tell your boyfriend you can go."  
Susan blushed. "Mom!"

* * *

Neville smiled as he waved goodbye to Susan and walked back down the path away from her house. _One down, four to go._ He thought, giving the thumbs up to Professor Snape, who had brought him here by portkey. The dark man acknowledged his signal by preparing the portkey for the next destination.

* * *

Susan thoughtfully tapped a finger on her lip as she watched Neville from inside the house. As he neared a section of brush on the outskirts of her property, she could have sworn she had spotted a dark figure reminiscent of her ominous Potions Master approach him. She shook her head to herself.  
She knew Neville was up to something, but she highly doubted that Snape was in on the conspiracy. _Get a hold of yourself, Susan_! She scolded herself. It was ridiculous- and at the same time, it was hard to doubt what she had seen with her own eyes.

_Well, at any rate- I'll see what's up in a week. Better get packing!_ The Hufflepuff quickly scrambled into her house to begin packing. She knew without a doubt that there was going to be something going on at Hogwarts this year, and she, for one, intended to be in the thick of it!

* * *

**Excerpt from The Daily Prophet- Your Source for the Wizarding World's News  
Special Hogwarts (OWLs and NEWTs) Edition**  
**_Students Sue to Take Convicts Name Off List_**  
By Rita Skeeter, staff reporter  
_This past week, Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronald Weasley, best known for being the former best friends of the murderer, Deatheater Harold James Potter (see our special Deatheaters and Justice edition, in stores now!), descended upon our courts with a petition demanding that the Ministry Testing Commission take Potter's name off the Top Ten list for their year. The Testing Commission firmly defended their stand in a courtroom battle that lasted several days. In the end, the courts upheld The Testing Commission's argument was that as Mr. Potter had not been expelled before his conviction, he was still a student that had to be listed with their results to make it fair to all students at Hogwarts._  
_"We would like it to be known," Mrs. Jackie Turner, of the Testing Commission's Public Relations Department firmly stated earlier this day, "that we in no way, shape, or form support either Potter or the rest of his Death Eater cronies. Credit must, however, be given where credit is due. We would also like to point out that Miss Hermione Granger, one of the accusers in this case, would stand to gain the most if we were to remove Potter's name from the list- as she would become the number one student."_  
_Could the Ministry be implying that one of our most precious heroes, Hermione Granger, who stood up and pointed out the point that we were all ignorant of- that Potter had turned to the dark side- is doing this for any other reason than the public good? This reporter, for one, refuses to believe it.

* * *

_

Severus Snape surveyed the assembled students gathered in his classroom. Neville Longbottom, the unexpected mastermind behind the plan Severus was setting into motion sat in the front row giving him a discreet thumbs-up sign. Severus restrained himself from rolling his eyes. _Gryffindors and their hand signals… honestly, I don't know what they'd do without them!_  
Susan Bones, Lisa Turpin, and Padma Patil sat in the second row, shifting uncomfortably but still curious to know what he would teach them…they knew something was up- Longbottom was a horrid liar- but they weren't quite sure what it was, or how he, Severus Snape, their feared and loathed Potions Professor, was involved.  
He turned his eyes to the back lastly, seeing the sole Slytherin and only other male, Blaise Zabini, leaning against the wall, arms folded, expressionless mask concealing the curiosity Severus knew was there.  
These students had many things in common- some of which they knew, and some of which they used to know… but just could… not… remember…  
They were all in the top twenty of their class (both in OWL scores and grades)- Bones, #19, Turpin, #12, Longbottom, #7, Zabini, #6, and Patil, #5. They, of course, knew that, considering that the lists for both had been published in The Daily Prophet, last week, including, to many people's displeasure (read: Granger), Harry Potter's name as #1 overall. To Severus, that had been quite a surprise- if Potter had not been framed- _he's innocent, he's innocent…_- Potter would have been eligible for all the OWL courses, considering he had received almost all O's- with the obvious exception of Astronomy, for which no one got an 'O' out of those taking the exam at the time.  
The students assembled were also all taking both NEWT Potions and Herbology- something Neville had looked into before suggesting the idea. Severus had known they had wanted these students since the clumsy Gryffindor had first made the problem know. However, he had not known how to bring them all together without making others suspicious. Until Neville had pointed out that Granger had not done so well on her OWL for Herbology, that is. After checking the lists they had concurred that that was the best front for their actual crusade.  
The third reason that these students were all similar was something that they didn't know. _They should've known_. Severus corrected to himself. And they would have known that they supported Harry Potter without a doubt if it wasn't for the meddling of Dumbledore... which brought them to the fourth, and last, reason Severus and Longbottom had brought this unlikely group together.  
They had all been obliviated.

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_**A/N Please Read!** I apologize for not updating as soon as I said I would- it was a miscalculation on my part, I admit. I thought I'd be able to handle all my summer volunteer work, my job, my schoolwork, and still have time to type this up and post it. Sadly, this had been sitting, handwritten, in my notebook for about two months. I just have not had time to type it up to post it. I hope you guys can forgive me! I'll try and get another Chapter up before Christmas. I'm so glad all of you reviewed- I appreciate every single one of them. I'd appreciate you doing that again. _

_Just one question- _**Does anyone find my shifts in POV confusing? If so, why?**_ Just wanted to make sure there wasn't a problem with it- I'm always working to improve my writing. So if there is any suggestions you can make for me, or any problems you can point out, I'd appreciate them. Thanks!_


	5. Classes and Councils

**Title: **Signore Delle Ombre

**Author:** The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As

**Summary:** The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.

**Character Types: **Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout

**SHIPs:** Nada. None. Zip. Zero. Cero.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter… wait, wait…. pulls out Identification Card…. Okay, nope- don't own Harry Potter. 

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**A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah! And apologies: this is un-betaed, please forgive minor mistakes of a sleep-deprived, over sugar-filled author.  (So Sorry for the Shortness)

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_Do or Do Not- There is no Try._

_-Yoda

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**Chapter Five: Classes and Councils**

"I have agreed to teach this course to you during the summer, at a great sacrifice to my personal time." Snape announced. "As such, I expect all of you to put the greatest amount of effort you have into this course. No fooling around will be tolerated."

As Snape made his speech, Neville looked around, cataloguing all the other's reactions.

Blaise Zabini. The only son and heir of the once neutral pureblood family, he had remained relatively out of view during their school years, so far. His family, too, had attempted to remain out of sight and neutral during the first war, until the Heir to the family at the time, Blaise's father, had been brutally tortured and murdered by the Dark Lord for refusing to join the Deatheaters. With days, Blaise's mother and paternal Grandfather had come to Dumbledore and joined the Order of the Phoenix.

Susan Bones, who was cautiously watching Neville out of the corner of her eye- the clumsy Gryffindor knew he'd have to be careful not to slip up before she could discover the truth for herself. Neville had partnered in Herbology a few times with the Hufflepuff, and knew her to be incredibly smart, although not the overwhelming know-it-all smart that Granger possessed. Neville was slightly more comfortable with her than the rest of the group, although he couldn't count her as a friend, per say. Her Aunt, Amelia Bones, the new Minister, was a firm supporter of the Light, although she was slightly wary of what she called the Order's vigilante tactics. Still, she and her family had been at _The Meeting_, because Dumbledore was desperately campaigning for the Bones' to join, and Amelia was slowly giving in.

For Neville, the two Ravenclaws were the enigmas to him. Lisa Turpin and Padma Patil's families were both heavily involved with Dumbledore's Order, and the two girls had most likely heard stories of the wonders of Dumbledore while still drinking their mother's milk. And yet… they had taken the side of a boy Dumbledore had denounced, a boy whose best friends claimed he was evil incarnate, a boy they barely knew…Harry Potter.

* * *

_"Professor Dumbledore?" Tonks asked, hesitantly. Neville looked at her, startled to see her appearance now resembled that of Harry's, including the lightning bolt._

_"Yes, Nymphadora?" The Headmaster asked, leaning back and popping a lemon drop in his mouth._

_"If you don't mind my asking, I know that when an Auror does an interview, it is common practice to make a transcript of the interrogation. May I see the transcript from Harry's...Potter's" she amended hastily, at the nasty looks thrown her way. "interrogation, please?"_

_"Of course, my dear." Dumbledore said, waving his hand to produce a thick stack of paper and to distribute it to everyone at the meeting. "After all, my old eyes might have missed an additional charge to add to the list. After all, a few more charges and we could give him the Dementor's Kiss."_

_Neville felt sick as he reached out and grabbed the transcript. Hermione and Ron looked so smug, and he couldn't believe that they could do this to their own friend, even if he was really guilty. He glanced down at the list with a frown, starting to read.

* * *

_

Aberforth Dumbledore frowned to himself thoughtfully as he read the latest news from the Wizarding World. His younger brother had, in one selfish and rash movement, undid over a Century of the Council's- and more, specifically, Aberforth's- work.

_Damn him._ He had not thought it time- he had not wanted it to be time- but the events had forced his hand, and he knew he had to contact the others. The others, who would have, more likely then not, already read the news. _And Panicking._ Aberforth added silently to himself. After all, only Aberforth could call a meeting, and the members of the Council were not allowed to contact each other outside of The Hall, for reasons of secrecy.

With a sigh, he pulled himself out of his chair, grabbed a bit of floo powder, threw it into the fire, and watched the fire turn green. Stepping into the fire, he called out in a loud voice that did not sound like it could come from such an old man, one which echoed even after he was gone, "Azkaban Hall!"

When all of the delegates had gathered, Aberforth surveyed them with a sigh. Three others beside himself gathered, burdened by the grief and strife that had torn them, their families, and, ultimately, the Council, apart.

There should have been nine people, gathered here.

When the Family had been almost entirely wiped out, at a time when Aberforth himself had been but a year old, and Albus was yet to be conceived, the Council had been carefully established to protect and serve. Nine Houses, who had been loyal to the Family for centuries, were chosen to provide delegates- three Dark, three Grey, three Light.

Great misfortune had befallen all nine houses, and the four seats filled were members of dying families themselves. Aberforth, himself, of course, knew he would never entrust his position as Head of the Council and a representative of the first Grey family, the Dumbledores, to his younger brother. Albus was simply too blinded by what his personal goals were and could not conceive of the idea of doing something for the good of his own family, let alone another family entirely. Regulus Black stood as the last representative of the Dark families, and could not pass on his position, with no viable offspring of his own, and his elder brother, who should have been here, on the run and clueless of his family's true alliances. Perhaps worst of all, he had been declared dead by the Ministry of Magic, was wanted by the Dark Lord, causing him to be confined to the Council Chambers for his own safety, by order of Aberforth, whose last desperate- and seemingly impossible- hope was to see the Council whole again before his passing. Patrick Patil, older than Aberforth himself, who had lost his son in the confusion during Grindlewald's reign and had never found him again, the representative of the second Grey family. Last but not least, the only surviving light representative, Gideon Prewitt, who had been forced to fake his own death to ensure not only the survival of his newly wedded sister, but that of the legacy of his family and the survival of the Family.

Aberforth was well aware that between two assumed dead men in the ranks, himself, and an old man, the Council had no political connections within the current Ministry. And that made the loss of the families that should have been here all the worse.

The remaining light families, both with politically promising representatives, lay in ruins, one dead defending the Family's heirs, the other tortured into insanity before he could pass on the family legacy. In the case of both of the missing Dark families, one a generation ago, one two generations back, the Heir had murdered the Patriarch, and since only one member of the House could hold the secret of the Family and the Council at a time, which meant that the secret was passed on upon the moment of death, the secret had never been passed on. Perhaps the saddest case of all was the last Grey family. Two generations back, the secret had been passed on to the House's final member, a young female still at school who had taken her membership of the Council very seriously. And then tragedy had struck in the form of her premature death, while she was still at school. Members of the Council had been the only attendees of her funeral.

_But,_ Aberforth thought determinedly. _I am not here to mourn the slow decline and fall of the Council, but to ensure the safety of the very thing the Council was founded to protect._ And with that in mind, he sighed and stood up to formally open the Council session.

* * *

"Well?" Severus asked, looking across the sole table in the living room in his personal quarters towards Neville Longbottom. "Do you think it's time?"

"Do you?" The young Gryffindor returned. The past few weeks, Severus found he actually enjoyed teaching. All the people he and Neville had selected were intelligent and serious individuals willing to devote themselves entirely to their work, and the subject areas of Potions and Herbology. Of course, that hadn't been the reason the students had been picked, but Severus had been overjoyed to discover his work would not go to waste.

After a slight hesitation in which the Potions Master glanced warily towards the fireplace as to assure himself that no one was listening in, and a spell to keep eavesdroppers at bay was cast, Severus sighed. "Yes, I do."

Neville nodded thoughtfully. Working with Snape had been more pleasant then he had thought. He had found more in common with the grumpy ex-Slytherin than the original reason of the shared grievance, and was almost sad to see the start of school and the lose the easy companionship he had gained with the man.

But the start of school was the reason the co-conspirators knew they must hurry. There were three days left in the special course the two had thought up to achieve their aims, the fourth day would be spent getting school supplies, and the fifth day would be the onset of school again. Because of it all, Neville and the Potions Master were preparing to take the final step with a slight amount of hurry, knowing that the closer they got to school, the easier it would be for the Headmaster to detect what the two were up to, with the return of his loyal spies and the flock of Order members that had begun their descent on Hogwarts.

"Whatever happens," Neville said quietly, "I just wanted to say it has been an honor working with you."

Severus managed a small smile for the formerly clumsy boy. "Gryffindors," He drawled, "sometimes you're so sentimental…" With one last nod, Neville headed off to bed for a night of restless contemplation.

* * *

The first thing Harry was aware of was the silence. Over the weeks, he had heard screams in his head, felt them vibrate eerily against his skull; the screams of both Harry's past and Voldemort's present. He knew, even from his cell, that Voldemort was gaining more strength and followers with every passing day- the people who entered Harry's head proved it. Although Harry did not know any of them personally, Voldemort's tendency to gloat to his victims had revealed the people's positions, and Harry knew that the positions mentioned were highly coveted and revered in the Wizarding World. Sadly, the idiot Minister Fudge had not been among the screams.

So, as the importance of silence made its way into Harry's head, the teen looked up…and stared into the face of the oldest man he had ever seen. He squinted. "Dumbledore? How long have I been in here?"

Someone chuckled, and a person that looked oddly familiar stepped out from behind the old man. "Wrong Dumbledore, lad. And you might want to step back." The younger man said, before stepping out of view, the old man hastily drawing back after him.

Harry frowned, dazed, confused and still not thinking straight from the aftereffects of the manmade Dementors. He barely blinked when the younger man kicked in the door, pulverizing it into tiny pieces. "Well that's nice…" He said unsteadily, before fainting into the blissful and welcoming depths of unconsciousness, which had eluded him for so long.

With a sigh, Aberforth beckoned to Regulus to pick up the limp adolescent and carry him out of the cell. The old man only turned around once, to conjure a dead body replica of the teen in Regulus' arms, and a door to cover the cell once again.

* * *

Susan Bones sat patiently, a feeling of anticipation building inside of her. Neville had seemed oddly excited today, throwing quick, analytical glances towards all the members of the group. At the same time, she felt a sense of relief. The mystery she had come to solve could be completed today.

She noticed the three others also looking curiously Neville. _So I wasn't the only one to suspect something was up._ She thought to herself, determinedly making her way to the Potions classroom a little early, registering the others following behind her, Neville looking tired and restless, but at the same time, eager.

Precisely on time, as usual, Professor Snape swept into the room, black robes billowing behind him. _Does he wear any color besides black?_ She wondered absently before focusing on the Potions Professor as he began to talk.

"Today," He spoke authoritatively, "We will be making a Potion that allows us to not only detect if our minds have been tampered with, but remove any influences by spells or Potions, also."

Susan allowed confusion to wash over herself; _Why does Neville look so enthusiastic?_ She wondered, before devoting herself to her Potion.

In front of her, Severus Snape hid his triumphant smile. _Soon,_ he thought, exchanging a glance with Longbottom,_ soon…

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_

**REVIEW!**


	6. Transitioning

**Title: **Signore Delle Ombre

**Author:** The-Writer-Formerly-Known-As

**Summary:** The Summer before sixth year, Harry finds himself abandoned by those that call themselves the light. Sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit, he is forced to explore his growing and unusual powers, make new alliances, and form a new inner circle with those whose loyalties did not waver- although they are few, far between, and those that Harry would not have turned to before. Let the Battle Begin.

**Character Types: **Betrayed! Superpowered! Harry, Evil! Dumbledore, Stupid! Blind! Order of the Chicken, various others you will have to find throughout

**SHIPs:** TBD, most likely no slash

**Disclaimer:** I'm putting up a disclaimer. Now what does that say to you? That maybe I don't own it, hmmm?

**A/N:** Happy Ides of March! Apologies for taking so long… this chapter really was a bear to get out. Enjoy it! Review it! The next one is being written… now…

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Reveal not every secret you have to a friend, for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy. And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy, for he may one day become your friend.

_-Saadi Persian poet (1184 - 1291)

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_

**Chapter Six: Transitioning**

Susan was in shock. She stared down at her slightly off-white phial of potion, then at her book. Then down at her potion, again. She reached for another ladle of the potion from her cauldron, put it in a bowl, pricked her finger and watched the blood slowly drip off her finger. _One drop, two drops, three drops, four._ The potion in the bowl turned the same off-white color as the one in the phial. She glanced up in bewilderment.

Neville Longbottom, his own potion an earthy green color, stared around the room calmly, taking in reactions. He was the only one. Blaise Zabini was attempting to maintain his Slytherin mask, but his tightly clenched fists showed his agitation. Lisa Turpin and Padma Patil sat, heads together, whispering furiously to themselves and flipping through old potions books to check the potion, its function, and the possible results for it. Susan, felt no need to check any more books than the one that sat in front of her. She knew what the color of her- and her classmate's- potion meant.

They had, at some time in the past, been obliviated… and the block was still in place. That fact in itself wouldn't have been disturbing. Some families did use obliviation on their children when a child witnessed events that they were not supposed to be seen or were traumatic to the child. However, the potion was merely off-white.

The principle behind the potion was simple. The more yellow the potion was, the longer a time since a memory had been tampered with. The scale ranged from pure white, which meant that the brewer had been obliviated right before making the potion, to an almost brown yellow, which meant that it had been at least twenty years since the brewer had been obliviated. If the brewer's mind had never been tampered with, the potion would be black. And if the brewer's mind had been tampered with, but the memory had been restored to its original form, the potion would be green.

Looking back out across the classroom, and, in particular, Neville's green potion, Susan suddenly realized what she had been wondering since she had been approached by Neville about a class involving the use of NEWT Herbology and NEWT Potions.

She raised a hand, looking directly at her Potions Professor, who gazed coolly back, onyx eyes unreadable. "Professor Snape, sir? What do we do now?"

* * *

"Are you sure they won't be a liability, Albus?" Alastor Moody asked gruffly. "I don't want a bunch of potential Deatheater supporters outside of our current target area."

"I know what I am doing, Alastor." Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leader of the light, sat calmly in his chair, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he strove to separate two lemon drops from each other. "None of them will ever remember- not only did I obliviate them, but I tied a charm that encourages them to come back to the light. They will not remember their doubts, because Potter is dark, and they will not support anything that is dark."

"Are you positive?" The retired Auror intently leaned forward. "Most of them are currently in the same room together, for Merlin's Sake!"

"Yes, I'm positive." Suddenly, the lemon drops were pulled apart, and the Headmaster gave a satisfied smile. "It's just a class for NEWT Potions, involving Herbology. I've been checking up on the Potions they've been making. The Hospital Wing is almost completely stocked for the coming school year."

Moody gave a small sigh, abruptly leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, his magical eye rolling occasionally in its socket. "You do know people in the Order are having doubts, now?"

"Doubts? About what?"

"About the wisdom of obliviating some of our members, and the teenagers."

"It had to be done. They had been corrupted, and they didn't even know it. We were merely removing the tumor that is the dark before it could overwhelm and consume them. It's Potter's fault."

"I know, Albus, I know. Damned Potter."

"If only he had stayed the boy he once was…" The Headmaster let out a sigh, although it was hard to tell if it was of regret or contentment, since a moment before he had slipped a lemon drop into his mouth.

"Was he ever that boy?" The wary Auror asked, and then stood up to signal the end of the conversation. "I must be going now, old friend. The Ministry wants me to consult on a case."

"Go ahead, Alastor. Stop by soon."

* * *

"Miss Bones, I am a Master of Occlumency. I can, if you wish, break your memory block- and restore the original method." The Potions Master said gently. The others in the group were gathered around in a half circle, expressions of shock wearing off their faces, to be replaced by a look of stony resolve.

"Will it hurt?" Susan asked softly.

"It might." Susan looked around the room solemnly. Everyone else was watching to see what actions she would take. At that moment, she knew whatever action she took could determine the course of the rest of her life. She glanced quickly at Neville, steeled herself, took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Do it."

Snape pulled out his wand and pointed it at her. Susan squeezed her eyes shut. "Legilimens!" The Potions Master breathed.

* * *

Molly Weasley frowned at the goblin before her. "Look- Potter is in Azkaban. He's a criminal. The Ministry has ruled that my family gets his money, because we suffered the most under his dark influences."

"I am sorry, mam, but Gringotts does not recognize orders from the Ministry- we are an independent organization authorized to operate in England under the Azkabanian treatise of 1066. The only way we will relinquish Mr. Potter's money is upon proof of his death, at which point we shall disperse his money as directed by his will." The goblin stated, a disgusted look upon his face at having to deal with the red-faced, loud-mouthed woman.

"Nonsense!" Molly sputtered. "You cannot do this, goblin! The Minister himself shall hear of this… this outrage! Your rebellion shall not be tolerated!" With one final glare, she spun around and stormed out of the building.

Griphood blinked calmly, then he, too, spun to walk, although he was headed further back into the vaults of Gringotts, a small smirk playing upon his lips. He immediately headed for his direct superior's office.

With a bow to the goblin in the sole chair in the office, he spoke. "The Weasley woman is gone, now, but she has threatened to come back with Ministry workers to force us to give up the vaults belonging to Harry Potter. What do we do now?"

"Easy, my son," the soft but confident voice of the Head of the London Gringotts banks replied. "Gather together all our human employees. It's time to see where their loyalties lie."

The younger goblin paused. "You mean…"

"Yes." The elder said firmly. "Inform all of our kind to be in readiness to close the doors of this bank to the Wizarding world, if need be."

* * *

"_Headmaster." Susan looked at the woman who had spoken. She had stood up from a chair near where Susan's classmate, Gryffindor Neville Longbottom, sat. In one hand she held the transcripts from Harry Potter's interegation, which Susan, herself, has also been reading. The woman was in her early twenties, with pink hair and a heart-shaped face that would have been considered pretty if not for the frown marring her face. "No where in these transcripts does Harry actually say that he is a Deatheater, a dark wizard, or that he, in fact, did indeed murder his family. You ask him things we all knew last year- that he told us, and that we acknowledged, accepted, and even encouraged as something we would have all done."_

_Susan found herself nodding in agreement. A little to her right, Ron Weasley scowled and shot to his feet. "Have you been brainwashed, Tonks? He admitted to casting an unforgivable!"_

"_An unforgivable which, in his position, I would have cast, too." The pink-haired woman- Tonks- replied back calmly. "He'd just seen his Godfather killed, for Merlin's sake!"_

"_He probably _murdered_ his own Godfather." Ron shot back. "And he was trying to get the rest of us killed, too!"_

"_Why would he want to kill his own _friends_?" Tonks asked, exasperation clear in her voice. _

_Ron opened his mouth to answer, but, for the first time since the argument had started, Hermione spoke up. "He didn't need a reason." She answered patronizingly. "He was- and still is- a Dark Wizard. He let Voldemort in his head, most likely to get some tips on how to lead us all to painful, prolonged deaths! I bet he was writhing in anticipation for the day when he could take his Master's mark!"_

"_But the point is," Susan said quietly. "He wasn't marked. He never admitted to killing his family, even when under _a truth potion_. Yet he was charged with being a Deatheater, and murdering his family. Why?"_

_Hermione flushed a bright, angry, fire-engine red, and opened her mouth to answer, but Dumbledore intervened._

"_Enough." The Wizard said firmly, blue eyes steely behind his half moon glasses. "For thos of you that doubt _my_ word, stay. Perhaps it would help if you had a visual aid. Everyone else, go."_

_Obediently, the members of the meeting sorted themselves out. In the end, very few stayed. Susan saw, out of the corner of her eye, her Aunt hesitate, but then her Aunt shook her head and walked briskly out the door. After all, it _was_ the word of one of the most powerful wizards of the time, a man who symbolized the light side. It was mostly current Hogwarts students who stayed- those who had know Harry Potter personally, and had observed his actions throughout his school years. _

_Snape had also stayed, as had the woman who had spoken up originally. A few other adults had stayed, but she couldn't see them- her back was to them. Dumbledore drew his wand. "Let me extract my memory." He said, drawing a slim silver thread from his head and putting it in a pensive he had removed from a cabinet on the side of the room. Everyone left in the room all leaned forward to view the memory, and so they were taken by surprise by Dumbledore's spell. There was a flash of light, and Susan knew no more.

* * *

_

For the first time since he had been incarcerated, Harry slept. And as he slept, he dreamed...

**_He was floating- floating in a swirl of colors and sounds. A symphony of voices swelled in volume and threatened to overwhelm his senses, so he clamped his hands over his ears- the sounds stopped, but he was soon surrounded by color after color after color… whirling, flashing, sparkling- on and on and on past his eyes. He took his hands off his ears to hide his eyes, but before he could do so, there was black. No, not black- nothing- and he was falling, falling, falling…_**

…_**and there was no bottom. He opened his mouth to scream, but he was in nothing, and only nothing will come from nothing…**_

…_**distantly he could hear two people arguing, and he knew what they were yelling about was important, but their voices were far-off, like a fuzzy radio in need of tuning. He tried to move away, away from the nothing and towards the voices…**_

…_**but then there was light, a spark, a beacon of light growing brighter and brighter and brighter, and he was pulled away from the voices and back through the nothing, but the nothing was only lasting a little while, because the light was there, illuminating and chasing away the nothing…**_

…_**there was no nothing anymore…**_

Harry's eyes snapped open and he let out an explosive gasps as he stared at the ceiling. For a second, he was confused, as his brain attempted to process his surroundings. At first he thought he was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but no, his wand had been snapped- he had been expelled- he would never return there… he had been sent to Azkaban, by those he had held closest to his heart. He was all alone in the dark with the screams of his parents and the other inmates and the accusing testimony of those he had held dear…

He suddenly he heard no screams, nor any other noise from the memories he had attempted to forget. His eyes snapped to the side of his bed in time to meet a concerned pair of grey eyes- and then he fainted.

* * *

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